


thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back

by kayura_sanada



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 15:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: Once, Ventus had loved his wings. Now Terra hid them in his shame.





	thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back

Little Ven’s eyes widened the first time Terra called out his wings. Both he and Aqua noticed, with the awareness that came from months of searching for any sort of reaction from the traumatized boy. “Firelight,” little Ven said, and both Aqua and Terra gasped.

Ven could speak, of course. Usually he did as he’d done now, speaking one word, perhaps a small phrase – a name, or a date, or a single word like “keyblade.” This was a rare moment, however, when he wasn’t simply echoing the word or words of someone else but instead speaking on his own, for himself.

Immediately, Terra rushed to Ven’s side and knelt to touch his shoulder. “Ven?” Aqua wasn’t far behind him, able to get closer, since she had yet to call out her wings. She sat on her knees and pat Ven’s head.

Ven’s gaze stayed on Terra’s wings. A small smile curved his lips. “Firelight,” he said again. He reached out, then paused.

“It’s all right,” Terra said, feeling something warm and full expand in his chest until he could hardly breathe. “You can touch them.”

He didn’t warn Ven to be careful. He already knew he didn’t have to.

Ven reached out as if his touch alone could tear hunks of feathers from his wings. Terra felt the moment he touched the feathers; a person’s wings were sensitive to the touch, a necessity, since they were a physical manifestation of a person’s heart. According to Master Eraqus, it was also necessary for the wings to be sensitive to _everything_ , or else they would be unable to keep something as heavy as a human in the air.

He also wasn’t used to too much touching. Master Eraqus would give him check-ups, especially after practice, and he and Aqua would spar in the sky, which meant sometimes their wings would touch. But it was an unspoken understanding that wings were very private parts of their bodies, considering from what they manifested, and weren’t to be touched casually.

So being touched by such curious, tentative hands was something he’d never before experienced. Ven’s eyes, still wide as saucers, followed the movements of his hand, drifting slowly up from the bottom of his primaries. Ven trailed the bright lines of orange, the ones strong enough to tinge not just the rachis but several of the barbs, nearly coloring the entire vane, until one long finger traced one of the branching paths of yellow-orange pigmentation in the rachis until they, too, faded into the white all keyblade wielders bore. Ven’s fist clenched in the soft down feathers near his scapulars, deep enough to pass the sturdier feathers above them. Terra shuddered from his toes to his hairline at the sensation. Ven quickly pulled his hands away. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and stared at the floor.

“It didn’t hurt,” he said, trying to bring back that look of wonder. “It just surprised me. Just go slowly. Feathers are sensitive. Just like yours.”

They had yet to see Ven’s, just as he hadn’t yet seen theirs. Terra wondered if Ven even remembered his wings or how to draw them out.

Ven blinked. “Mine?” He looked at Aqua. “There are more?”

It was the most interest they’d gotten from him since he’d seen the master’s keyblade – and that had also induced something like a panic attack. Aqua, likely feeling something similar to the hope swamping him, slowly called out her own wings. They burst out, thinner and longer than his own, the bottom tinged bright sky-blue. When they flew together, Terra had always thought her wings to be like the sky itself, bright blue with sparkling clouds. Ven, however, grinned wide at them and said, “waterfall!” Yet when Ven made to touch Aqua’s wings, she winced. She hid it well, but both her posture and her wings were stiff. Ven likely sensed it, because he pulled his hand away much faster than he had with Terra and returned to studying the floor with a frown.

“Sorry,” Aqua said, her voice soft. Her wings shook as if to straighten the feathers Ven had put out of place. “I’m not used to them being touched. But I truly am happy you like them, Ven. It means a lot to me.” Ven just nodded, keeping his head down. She turned a pleading gaze on Terra. He acted on instinct, his wings moving almost before conscious thought to encase Ven within their fold. Ven looked up at the wings, then at Terra. Terra smiled.

“Don’t be sad, Ven. We wouldn’t have let you touch them if we didn’t want you to, or if we didn’t trust you. It’s a strange sensation, not a bad one. You didn’t hurt us, and we don’t love or trust you any less.”

Carefully, Ven touched his wing again. This time, though, his gaze was locked on Terra’s. Thankfully, he’d already grown accustomed to the feeling, and he simply smiled at the warm current that sang up his nerves. “See?”

Ven looked away and nodded. He didn’t pull his hand away.

Over an hour later, and Aqua would give him a bright smile as they began their training. “I don’t think I would have been able to stand that if I hadn’t seen how well you’d handled it. I would have yanked my wings back for sure. You’re really strong, Terra.”

He’d been confused, but pleased. Even moreso when, throughout the months, Ven showed a decided preference for his wings, no matter how many times Aqua offered to let him touch hers.

* * *

Only a few weeks or so after Ven first saw his and Aqua’s wings, Master Eraqus had called them all in for training with their wings – an excuse, Terra was sure, to have him and Aqua nearby while the very intimate effort to help on e call their wings, just in case something went wrong.

He and Aqua had taken to the sky some time ago, doing little more than flying loop de loops in some semblance of training, both of them looking toward the throne room, not trying to snoop but still too worried to not wish to see, when they both clearly heard Master Eraqus call out, “Terra! Aqua!” They were already swooping down before their master said, “come down here now, please.”

Aqua landed first, faster than him as always, and led the way into the building. Ven knelt in the middle of the floor trembling before Master Eraqus, who stood with his wings flared out. “What happened?” Aqua asked as Terra broke into a run, bypassing her to reach Ven’s side faster.

Ven’s gaze stayed on the floor, the default state he’d shown for countless weeks when he’d first arrived with Master Xehanort. Terra caught the tiny flinch as Master Eraqus spoke. “Young Ventus seems to be having a problem calling out his wings. Considering his previous training with Master Xehanort, I can only assume it to do with his experience and not with any lack of aptitude. I was going to ask if the two of you would be willing to help me give a demonstration.” Master Eraqus eyed Ven and Terra as Terra touched the young boy’s shoulder. Ven leaned into the touch. Almost subconsciously, he reached up and grabbed a tuft of Terra’s down. Eraqus’ eyebrow rose.

“Ven has already seen us call out our wings,” Aqua explained. Ven buried his face in the crook of Terra’s shoulder, face out so his nose tickled Terra’s wings. “We could help explain the process?”

But Master Eraqus’ attention had fallen fully on Terra and Ven, and he shook his head. “Terra.” Terra looked up, his gaze finally torn from Ven at his master’s call. “Ventus seems to trust you.” Terra blushed. Nodded. “He will be under your charge now. It will be up to you to look after him. I will also leave it to you to show Ventus how to call upon his wings. If he is able, I believe it is you who will be able to coax his heart forward after such an injury.”

Terra blinked. That was a lot of responsibility. He hadn’t even gotten far enough in his training to practice with his real keyblade – he was still practicing with the wooden one he had made. Even if he _was_ far enough to use his keyblade, he was no master. Not yet. Would Ven really be in the best of hands? Gently, he pulled Ventus off of him and stood. “Master?”

“Sometimes,” Master Eraqus said, cutting through Terra’s hesitation, “the heart knows more than the mind. Ventus’ heart has recognized yours, and yours his.” He stepped forward and clasped Terra on the shoulder. His gaze pierced the young man. “I’m counting on you.”

Terra nodded. His back straightened. “Of course.” He looked down as Master Eraqus left to find Ven staring up at him. He didn’t know where to start. He was pretty sure, however, that the comforting smile on his lips was not a misstep.

Aqua watched them, her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. She tilted her head to the side, taking in the view before her – Terra’s wings still encompassed Ven, cradling him within their fold.

* * *

“It’s all right, Ven. You’re in a safe place.” Ven hunkered down a bit, his gaze taking in the tiles in the throne room. Terra thought for a moment. He’d already told Ven what it took to call out his wings – that it was like reaching into one’s heart and releasing that light to touch the sunlight – or, for Terra’s less poetic interpretation, like taking one’s feelings and spilling them out as if having them burst from one’s chest. He’d shown Ven his own wings again, this time trying to unfurl them slowly so as to give Ven a physical demonstration, as well. But though Ven looked just as entranced as before, he had not followed suit.

He remembered Master Eraqus’ words, that Ven’s injury may account for his inability – no, fear – to call them out. Or perhaps inability _wasn’t_ wrong, and Ven may never have access to that part of his heart again?

He shook his head. No. He couldn’t think like that. Besides, he tried to tell himself, if that was the case, then Ven would have lost his keyblade. (But Ven had yet to call out a keyblade.) It would mean that Ven’s heart was so broken it may not be recoverable. He could remain like this forever, hurting and hurting and never healed. Or things might get worse; the injury could spread throughout enough of his heart to pull into darkness, to turn his into a heartless, to perhaps even kill him. He found himself suddenly short of breath.

No. He wouldn’t let that happen to Ven.

He took a single step into Ven’s personal space. Once again, his wings acted on their own, cradling Ven within their walls like a chick. “How about this?” Ven’s gaze slid up the length of his wings, then up to his face. “I promise you. I won’t let anything happen to you. All right?” Ven just blinked. “I’ll always find a way to you.” He flapped his wings for emphasis, spreading a quick burst of wind that threw Ven’s hair is wild directions. The move surprised a laugh out of Ven. Terra’s heart fluttered.

Ven bit his lip, eyeing Terra’s wings. He put a hand to his chest. “Feelings,” he murmured, and closed his eyes. His shoulders hunched. “Feelings bursting forth.”

“With all your heart,” Terra said with a nod.

Ven’s wings erupted from his back.

It surprised Terra, not just because Ven progressed so quickly, but because of the fervor with which his wings rushed out. He inhaled sharply. The wings spread open completely, a natural reaction to their first release. The sudden unfurling, however, meant loose feathers flew everywhere, sparkling in the shafts of sunlight like stars. Ven stared up at his own wings in wonder. Terra’s breath stilled in his chest. His wings fluttered madly, startled into aimless motion at the wild, trembling feeling in his chest.

Ven’s wings were, from scapulars to primaries, completely and unbrokenly white. And in the midst of the downy flotsam, Terra’s heart started hammering in his chest.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful.

* * *

Ven grew. Terra would never say that their time together was the cause, but nonetheless, after Ven called out his wings, he began to heal. Terra and Ven slowly began sparring together, quickly getting Aqua in on the action. She as the one to teach Ven how to fly; like her, his wings were built for speed over strength. In the air, the endless white of Ven’s wings was almost blinding.

“He’s graceful,” Aqua said after telling Ven to practice his turns. “There’s no way he hasn’t used his wings before.”

“Then the master is right,” Terra said, his gaze on Ven, “and this is more like he’s recovering than like he’s learning.” He took a deep breath. He couldn’t imagine what could have left Ven without his memory or access to his keyblade or his wings. It must have been horrible. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he wanted to rage at himself, at the world, for not having met Ven sooner. His wings, flapping peacefully through the air, trembled for a second before he reminded himself of his vow.

He wouldn’t let anything happen to Ven again.

He smiled as Ven started putting some flair on his movements, no longer simply turning but adding a twist to his waist, almost moving sideways without once losing momentum. “Hey, Ven! Wanna try to race?”

Aqua huffed. “It’s too soon for that!”

Ven smiled widely. “Yeah!”

Terra laughed at the look on Aqua’s face. She didn’t seem to know which to smack first. “It’s fine, Aqua. It will be a simple race from point A to point B, and you’re going to be here to grab Ven if anything happens.”

“Don’t worry,” Ven said, waving at her. “I’ll win.”

She sighed.

“Don’t think I’ll hold back just because you’re still getting used to your wings,” Terra said, his grin widening. He flapped up to meet with Ven. They both shared a look before Terra pointed ahead. “  
Above the bench at the edge of the summit.” It was a straight shot if they flew along the mountain path. The incline would mean a fair use of the muscles of their wings, but it was unbroken, with no space to fall and fall and fall should the worst happen. Ven didn’t seem to care about any of that, however, his brows pulled low as he hunkered down, ready to shoot off the second the okay was given.

Aqua came up beside them, twirling in the air to get into position at their side. “All right, I’ll play referee, but be careful!” She looked to Ven when she said it. As if Terra would have offered this if he didn’t fully believe Ven was able to handle it. “Ready?” Terra balled up his body. Ven, trained by Terra, did the same. “Get set.” Terra matched the beat of his wings to Aqua’s countdown. He deliberately kept his gaze off of Ven. He wouldn’t insult Ven by going easy on him.

“Go!”

He hurried forward, swooping low, letting the wide span of his wings take over for the first leg of the race. He could only flap halfway, or else he would risk smacking his wings onto the ground, but that was necessary. He wasn’t built for speed, so he needed to lighten his need to maneuver. The incline shot up, and though the race was a straight shot above ground, in order to get the height he needed, he had to glide out above the open expanse around the castle and flap hard. He dared look to his side to see if Ven was there, but he wasn’t. He forced himself not to stop.

Then he saw that blinding flash of white. From above, Ven spiraled forward, his wings beating gorgeously out around him, flashing and sparkling in the sunlight like diamonds. When the incline leveled out, he nearly caught up, but then it jumped up again and Ven was gone. Aqua and Ven cheered. Terra reached the bench over a dozen seconds after Ven and landed on the grass. He flashed Ven a brilliant smile. “Congratulations, Ven!”

Ven beamed down at him, his entire aura like the sun. Blazing.

* * *

Aqua stepped quietly into the darkened room. Master Eraqus sat in his usual seat up on the dais, his gaze on a letter in his hand. He looked up at the sound of Aqua’s footsteps and put the letter aside. “Aqua. Is something the matter? You should be asleep.”

She’d tried to school her face into something neutral, but apparently she’d failed. “I wondered if I might voice a concern.” Eraqus straightened in his seat. She stopped in front of him and took a deep breath. “It’s about Terra. And Ven.”

“Ah.” Master Eraqus stapled his fingers. “You’re worried about their bond.”

She looked away. Look back, chin up. “Yes.”

“I see.” He leaned forward. “And are you concerned because it seems so intimate, or because you don’t trust them?”

Her mouth opened. Closed. She frowned. “Master?”

He smiled and stood. “You’re worried because they seem wrapped up in each other. I’ve noticed, as well.” He stepped down. “They only have eyes for each other. They gravitate around one another, to the point where they seem almost to orbit each other’s space.” She nodded. “Their gazes linger on one another for a long time. And now you’re afraid that Terra may be gazing upon young Ventus a little _too_ closely.”

She blushed and looked away again. Her shoulders hunched. “He’s so young,” she said. It was all the answer she could give. More, still, perhaps, than she’d meant.

“He is. They both are.” She looked up at that. “You and Terra may feel you’ve grown up, that you will soon be adults. But in my eyes, you are both still so very young.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “What I ask you now is this: do you believe Terra is the kind of person to take advantage of Ventus?”

Aqua shook her head. “No!” she said, almost angry at the idea. “But this thing between them – it’s not natural. It’s like they aren’t even aware of it, but it controls them.”

The corners of his eyes creased deeply as Eraqus’ smile grew. “Yes. It does seem that way.” He sighed. “There are things I have kept from you. They are responsibilities for masters and shouldn’t be placed on trainees’ shoulders.” He sighed. His hand left her shoulder, and he stepped back. “Our job is to protect the light. It takes many forms, Aqua, but there’s only one that makes that light spread out and grow.” Master Eraqus waved his hand toward the wall – toward their rooms, where Terra and Ven were sleeping. “Love. Our hearts bond with people. Oftentimes naturally, yes, by meeting one another and coming to appreciate each other. But sometimes there’s more than that.”

Aqua watched Eraqus’ every move, her eyes widening. “So it’s not what I thought? Really?”

“Yes. Hearts may have darkness in them, but the love for each other, for their world, was what saved the worlds when everything fell. Those children weaved the light of peoples’ hearts together in order to ensure they weren’t lost.” Eraqus shook his head. “No. It isn’t time yet to tell you the whole story. Just know this. Hearts are born with bonds. Every heart can find new bonds, but there are those that we have from the moments of our births. If Terra and Ven had met as toddler and newborn, their bond would still be the same as it is now.” He looked at her. “Do you think that bond would be sexual if Terra was four years old looking down at his heartbond as a baby?”

Aqua’s face twisted. She made a vague retching sound.

“Exactly.” Eraqus sat back down. “The question here isn’t whether to be worried about Terra and Ventus’ bond. It’s whether you trust their hearts to act appropriately.”

Something in Aqua cleared. Her mouth opened on a silent ‘oh.’

“When they are older, then perhaps yes, that is how they may choose to strengthen their bond. But right now, all they feel for each other is an intense love. A desire to be with one another. To be near the other. You needn’t fear, Aqua.” Eraqus looked down. His smiled softened into something so tender it made Aqua’s heart melt. “In fact, this is something to be rejoiced.”

She was so relieved, she chose to ignore the sorrow lacing her master’s tone. She felt lighter than she had in months. Her friends had a bond of light so strong it had been forged at their births. It wasn’t what she’d thought; her oldest friend wasn’t lusting after a child. She’d hoped, considering the soft, almost devoted look in Terra’s eyes, but still.

She left the room, steps infinitely lighter than before.

Eraqus leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “Terra,” he whispered. “Of all the hearts to be bonded to…”

* * *

The day had finally come. Terra felt nothing but determination, will. This was the day he’d looked forward to for years, the day he’d trained his entire life for. His heart hammered as he swiped his keyblade at Aqua, just as he had countless times before in training. It felt different now. There was something riding on this. Master Eraqus had seen him spar countless times before. What would make this time, this one time, be enough for Terra to earn his place as master and stand beside those two?

He put all his power into his swing, but Aqua was too fast. She bounded away, then hopped back further with a sudden flash of wings – she’d pulled them out on the fly, in the middle of the fight. As always, her every move was effortless grace. He’d struggled so hard to earn his place even beside her and Ventus. Even though his heart had soared the day Ven had beaten him in that race, he couldn’t help but think that he was somehow falling behind despite it all. He’d been practicing flight for years, and just like that, Ven, who had only called out his wings mere days before, had managed to trounce him in a race.

He wanted to become strong. He wanted to be the kind of person those he loved could rely on. But perhaps that wasn’t something he was capable of. Perhaps this was as good as he was ever going to get.

He gritted his teeth, forced to unfurl his own wings just to keep up. He wasn’t fast. Ven was the fastest of the three of them, faster even than Aqua. He was great at long range or magic like Aqua was, either. All he had going for him was power. Strength. That would be how he proved his worth.

He raised his keyblade, wings spanning out behind him to help increase his thrust. At first, he didn’t notice it. His gaze was locked on Aqua, on her keyblade – knock it out of her hands, and the match would be over. But then he flapped his wings for that first push of momentum, and he saw it. On his wings – they looked gray. Shadows flickered across them. He pulled back on his power at the last minute, and Aqua was able to maintain her grip as she blocked his swing. He sucked in a sharp breath, even as he blocked her counterattack. He was forced to cede ground as he tried to get himself under control.

* * *

“The darkness,” he murmured, and couldn’t help but look again at his wings. It wasn’t his imagination. They may not still have shadows flickering over them, but they were not as white as they’d been before. “Where did it come from?”

He didn’t know, and perhaps it didn’t matter. His wings were proof of what he’d nearly done. He called them back, not wanting to look at them for a second longer.

He made his excuses and walked away.

* * *

Fear and worry and hate pounded thick in his chest as he listened to Xehanort’s explanation. Ventus had finally healed from Xehanort’s last-ditch effort to protect Ventus from the darkness in his heart. And that darkness, given its own physical form, was still desperately trying to drown out Ven’s light.

He imagined Ven’s wings, broken, no longer offering that stunning light. He imagined that smile disappearing forever.

He felt sick.

Nothing was more important than ensuring Ven’s safety. He swore to help Master Xehanort protect Ven and stop Vanitas. Terror thrummed at his pulse as he turned to leave. He couldn’t help but think of Ven, following after him, wanting to tell him something so badly he’d left their home. And now he was out among the worlds, inadvertently closing the gap between himself and Vanitas.

He called his glider and nearly leaped onto it, hunkering low and urging it faster. Master Xehanort had pointed him toward Radiant Garden, certain that the being known as Vanitas would seek out such a world with so much light. He thought of Ven again and again. Ven’s wings had always been so bright. It made sense, in Terra’s heart, that there was nothing but light in Ven’s. Could that also mean that Ven might be there, drawn to the light in a different way?

Please, _please_ let him get there before Ven!

* * *

His heart leaped at the sight of Ven charging forward, a giant Unversed just in front of him, as well. He reminded himself that he hadn’t seen a single sign of Vanitas, that Ven was still safe. As he would continue to be, because they were together again. Heck, Ven had even done a good job keeping up with the Unversed, and was clearly intent on fighting it.

When they fought together against the Unversed, it was like looking at someone he’d never seen before. Ven flashed out his wings and flew high, dodging the Unversed’s strikes and slashing with both keyblade and wind. His wings were so white. Terra called out his own wings and shuddered. The feathers were gray, the firelight on the primaries dimmed in relation. The Unversed was too fast for him to dodge like Ven, but he planted his feet on the ground and held it off, or, if in the air, beat hard against its strength with the force of his wings. Aqua was like a faerie, jumping in and out of battle, ice and lightning flaring like storms from her keyblade.

By the time the Unversed looked ready to collapse, Ven was bruised, but unbeaten and uncowed. Aqua flitted in the instant the Unversed stopped shooting at them all and stabbed at the monster’s chest. Terra saw it stumble. “Ven! Now!” He charged forward, wings tucked in, and slashed. Ven, his own wings curled close to his back, flashed like starlight beneath him, digging into the spot Aqua had found. The Unversed shuddered at their combined attack. Terra landed, quickly calling his wings back to him as the creature faded. He hoped the others hadn’t seen.

Ven.

He hurried to Ven’s side. He had a cut on his shirt and a scrape on his cheek, and there were bruises on his arms from the few moments he hadn’t managed to dodge in time, but all in all, he looked all right. More, he looked positively luminous, his grin practically glowing at what they’d accomplished. “Got him,” Terra said, and let a bit of his own triumph leak out.

“We make a good team,” Aqua said, hurrying to their side. Terra caught her doing the same thing he had and tried to hide his grin.

“Sure do!” Ven said, so excited his wings fluffed up a bit. Terra did laugh then.

For the first time since everything had gone mad, things seemed almost normal. Ven gave Aqua and him tickets, telling them a bit of the story of how he’d gotten them. They all shared a laugh. Despite the change in his wings, he still felt as if he was still the same person. With these two, he could still be himself, without worrying about…

Without worrying.

But he’d been wrong. The laughter ended. He’d told Ven to go home, where it was safe – where Vanitas couldn’t reach him, and Ven wouldn’t be devoured by the darkness even Master Xehanort had failed to be able to contain. He’d been ready to work with Aqua, to – but everything had fallen apart. The shock of her rejection, of _Master Eraqus’_ rejection, had stung so badly he’d thought for a moment he’d failed to call in his wings. But it wasn’t his wings that had shrunken back at the knowledge of distrust the two had shown him. It was his heart.

“I’m on my own now,” he’d said, and felt hollow. He was certain that, if he pulled them out once more, his wings would be too dark to tell they’d ever been white.

* * *

Eyes wide, mouth open, he stood frozen. The man beside him flinched away, cried out. One gloved hand covered his injured eye. He ran away. Terra didn’t follow, even though he still held his keyblade at the ready. His wings, reacting to his distress, curled in around him. He caught the stain on the feathers and nearly choked on his breath. They were black. Hideously, grotesquely black.

He shuddered.

“Well done, Terra! You have taken yet another step forward,” Master Xehanort said, praising him. _Praising_ him. He called his wings back in shame, but the hurried movement loosed some of the feathers from their nest. They floated, dark as shadows, to the ground.

He shook his head, forcing his gaze away from those black marks. Looking at his new master. “But I was consumed by anger. Hatred.”

Consumed. Devoured. Whatever light had shone within him had been completely eclipsed.

“That,” he said, “was the power of darkness.”

“Darkness that you channeled.”

He turned away. Despite himself, he saw the stains of black on the ground. “No. I succumbed to it.” He shuddered at the thought of those wings tucked inside of him, nestled around his heart. His black heart. “I can never return home now. I’m a failure.”

“Then don’t.” The words made Terra flinch. “You could be my pupil.”

The words made him look up. What would anyone want with someone like him?

Master Xehanort attempted to explain some difference to him, comforted him in the knowledge that darkness was merely power, and what was done with it was evidence of good or bad. He even went so far as to say Master Eraqus had succumbed to the light. “It shines so bright,” Master Eraqus said, “he forgets that light begets darkness.”

The words shocked him. Was Master Xehanort truly saying that light wasn’t what Master Eraqus had taught? That…

And then Master Xehanort pointed to Terra’s heart and told him that Aqua’s and Ven’s lights were the reason darkness existed in his own.

Master Xehanort spoke of balance. Of a need for both light _and_ darkness. As if Terra was merely filling a void left by the light of Aqua and Ven. Ven, whose wings were so bright they nearly blinded. Ven, whose smile was like the sun. Ven, whose darkness had been cut from him to keep him alive when he couldn’t fight against it any longer. Who had almost died from it, and had taken so long to heal. Who was even now being chased by darkness.

Then Master Xehanort had called out his own wings, and they had been black as midnight. Terra eyed that inky darkness. “Join me,” Master Xehanort said. He reached out and grabbed Terra’s hand. His fingers were cold. “You and I can do the worlds much greater good, by wielding light and darkness in equal shares.”

“Master Xehanort…” He didn’t know what to think. What to believe. A keyblade master with wings of pure black. The idea that darkness and light were brothers instead of rivals, as if the night and the sun could exist in harmony.

“See more worlds,” Master Xehanort advised. “Seek out the darkness that upsets the balance.” Balance. No more of one than the other. Too much darkness was obviously horrible. Too much light… “ _Find Vanitas,_ ” Master Xehanort said, “and bring an end to him. Master Terra.”

Terra’s eyes widened. Master? He was no master. Not yet. He hadn’t… he shook his head. _Find Vanitas_. That was right. No matter what – no matter what was happening with him, or whether he should be a master or not, or whether light or darkness was good or bad – Ven was still in danger, and the worlds were still under attack.

 _Ven was still in danger_.

He bowed.

* * *

He hadn’t expected to see Ven outside of the Purification Factory. He was infinitely glad he’d called back his wings.

Ven’s smile was just as bright as ever. To him, nothing Aqua had said had mattered. To him, Terra was the same as he’d always been. “Take me with you!” Ven said, and Terra had to look away.

“I can’t do that, Ven.”

He couldn’t look. Couldn’t, yet still he couldn’t help but hear. “Why not?”

He closed his eyes. Ven had never sounded so heartbroken. “I just–” He stopped. There was no point in pulling Ven into the darkness with him. If he gave explanations – if he told Ven what he was feeling, what he’d _become_ – what would that do to him? Or maybe it was just fear. Fear of how Ven might look at him. He wanted Ven to continue loving him, even if he’d become something unlovable to the light. “When I really need you, Ven, I know you’ll be there.”

He chanced a glance back. Ven raised his head and smiled at him. “Well, why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend.”

Friend. He didn’t know if the word suited them anymore. Or could they even be that now? “Yeah,” he said. He looked up at the sky. It was bright and cheerful, openly blue. He smiled. He cared for Ven, and Ven clearly cared for him. Despite what Aqua had said. Despite what he himself might have heard while traveling through the worlds.

They were friends. _Balance_ , he thought, and wondered if the balance between Ven’s light and his darkness might be enough. “You’re right. Thanks, Ven.”

He called his armor with the touch of a hand. He couldn’t go back home. He was different. He didn’t ever want Ven to know just how far he’d fallen. But he still loved Ven. No matter how far the distance between them grew, as he sought out more worlds and Ven remained in the Land of Departure, still that one truth would never change.

Ven would never have to worry about Vanitas. He would live his life safe.

* * *

“Come to the place where all keyblade wielders leave their mark on fate – the Keyblade Graveyard!” Master Xehanort called his keyblade out, unfurled his wings, and stared Terra down. “There,” he said, and snapped his wings out, until their darkness blocked out the sun, “you will watch your dear Ventus and Aqua meet their ends, and the last light within you will die!”

Terra watched with a heart filled with lead as Xehanort destroyed his home and left. Left, leaving him with nothing. The wind around him picked up, the entire world falling up into the black hole Xehanort had called. He called out his wings, beating back at the air, struggling to keep his balance as the world cracked apart. Finally he called his glider, nearly losing his balance before he managed to hop aboard. He held on tight as he raced away from his home. From Ven’s and Aqua’s home. Once he was far enough away, he called back his wings.

His hands shook. The pain in his heart nearly felt able to break his ribs. He’d been played, all this time. And now? Now Xehanort was going after his friends. Because of him. Ven and Aqua were in danger because of _him_.

He could hardly breathe. This was what it felt like to be in danger of losing everything.

* * *

χ-blade. All this time. All this time, while Terra had been trying to protect Ven, Xehanort had been going behind his back and hunting him down. All to form this χ-blade thing. He glared at the old man as he stood next to the boy in the mask – right next to Vanitas. Not searching for him, not trying to stop him. Vanitas was nothing more than Xehanort’s lackey, and Terra had been sent on a wild goose chase while Xehanort had tightened a noose around Ven’s neck. A noose so tight that little Ventus had just begged Terra to kill him if he failed to escape it.

He called his armor, careful to not call out its cape. He may have never wanted them – never wanted _Ven_ – to see, but in order to keep Ven safe, he would be willing to become the devil himself.

Ven moved to meet Xehanort and Vanitas, to fight them. Terra pushed him back and raced forward. He launched forward, keyblade out, and called on his wings. They burst, black as pitch, from his skin, and slid through the slits in the back of his armor.

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. He couldn’t help but hear, however, when Ven gasped.

* * *

He hadn’t thought his wings could get darker. But when Xehanort finally admitted to what he’d done – to having torn Ven’s heart in two in an effort to get the χ-blade from him – fury and disgust and horror rose like bile within him, and his wings, once black, turned nearly into a void of color. The black looked endless.

The power made him fast enough to fight even Master Xehanort. Vanitas was nearly as fast as Ven, and far more ruthless, but he was able to handle fighting the both of them. Until, in an instant, Xehanort called Vanitas to go after Ven and Aqua, and Xehanort blocked his attempt to stop the boy. Xehanort mocked him, mocked his inability to save the two people left to him whom he loved so much.

The darkness deepened, further and further, until it was all he could see. So much power, and what was the point of it? If he couldn’t get past Xehanort now – if he couldn’t get through in time–

“Leave my friends alone!” He screamed. He screamed until his throat was sore. Any power. Any, all of it! So long as he saved them. So long as Ven and Aqua lived!

He fought. He beat upon Xehanort, pushing him back, then cutting him down. Only when Xehanort fell to one knee did he slow his assault. The old man gasped for breath, then raised his head. A smile burst across his face. “There! You see?”

He hesitated, but the old man had let down his defenses. He dared look back. A pillar of light shone into the sky, nearly reaching the blue moon hanging above them. He gasped.

“The χ-blade has been forged!”

His heart shattered. Terror, he thought, as he raced forward. But no. _“Ven!”_ he screamed. He could feel something within him breaking apart. Like a tether had suddenly been cut.

“And now, Terra, it is time for the final union!”

He turned to see Xehanort stab himself. “What?”

Light shone from the darkness of Xehanort’s heart. He shuddered. He’d thought, after diving so deep, he’d finally learned what darkness was. But this – this was so much darker than him.

A darkness too deep to escape.

* * *

But he wouldn’t let Xehanort go. He wouldn’t let the man use Ven, and certainly not with his body. He’d sworn. He’d sworn to never let anyone hurt Ven again.

His body, his heart, would not be used to break that promise.

No matter what.

* * *

He stood within his heart, looking out across the dark expanse toward Xehanort. “As I recall,” the old man said, “you couldn’t even handle your own darkness.” The man grinned. “How then do you expect to triumph over mine?”

He closed his eyes. He thought of his best friend. His sister, who had always been so strong. Who had always watched over him. And he thought of Ven, the one he’d taken under his own wing. The one he could still feel out there, small and fragile, but alive. Within his heart, his wings unfurled. He opened his eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Xehanort’s eyes widened. He scowled. “So that’s how it is, is it?” He closed his eyes again, content. “Someone else has stepped foot in your heart.”

Yes. He could feel it. The tether he’d thought had been cut had only been weakened. It was still there. The bond between him and Ven had survived Xehanort’s plan.

“Eraqus, you sly fox…”

He touched his chest and lifted his chin, looking once more at the man who had tried to use him. “I’m not afraid of what the darkness holds now. Even if you do wrest control of my heart from me – even if you cast me into the deepest, darkest abyss – you’ll never sway me from the one cause that pushes me to keep on fighting.” His wings spread wide, flexing, before curling around him. They were black, black as death. But the primaries shone a bright, bright yellow. The fire had turned inward, the colors fading to orange as they traveled up, then to a deep, deep red. The veins of the rachides slid into the darkness, but their color, though deep, promised light. “Whatever the cost,” he said, smiling, “I’m ready to pay it.”


End file.
